Orange Tea
by Sir Gigous
Summary: After Max's heart is crushed by Julia's marriage to Kyle, Cecilia begins to discover new sentiments towards her master. However, as Max begins to grow close to another, will Cecilia's hesitance cause her to lose the one she loves? Written in Cecilia's P.O.V.
1. Day 3

A.N. This is my first fanfic, so I want you to realize that it will not be perfect. Writing isn't my forte, and don't get me started on my grammar.

If there is one good thing you could do for me, it would be to give me an honest review. Don't go easy on my just cause I'm new, let your criticism flow.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rune Factory 2 or any of its respective characters. Common sense people.

…

_De Sainte Coquille Mansion, Winter 16th, Cecilia's P.O.V._

Over the last three days Max had changed. Once a flirty man, he had become insecure and unsure of himself. His once lush blond hair had grown tangled and unkempt, and mud crusted rags clung to his body like leeches. Maybe a maid shouldn't make note these things, but, then again, I am not just his maid. I am also his friend.

"Cecilia," Max mumbled quietly as I entered the room, the light from the fire dancing on his eyes, "why did she leave me?"

I blinked, taking the moment to savor the sweet aroma of mint which filled the room. Mint had always been my favorite smell, it reminded me of my days as a little girl. More specifically, my days in the Kardia Library.

The fire crackled suddenly, causing the illusion of the warm library to fade back into reality, "Your tea is ready, sir."

Max continued to stare into the fire, his eyes unblinking, "How long ago did she leave me, Cecilia?"

"Sir, your orange tea is ready," I said, slightly louder than before. Annoyance started to build in my stomach as I stood expectantly beside the disoriented fool, but I dismissed it. Who was I to judge another without first experiencing their situation?

Max, still in a trance, continued to mutter, "The worst part is the guilt."

I pulled out the silk chair which sat, untouched, by Max before sitting down in it, "Max, your orange tea, it's ready."

Max closed his eyes for a moment as if lost in thought, "Throw the cursed drink away. I have no need of it."

I slowly tilted my head down until the tea came into my line of sight. Steam, nearly invisible, wafted up from the clear liquid into the crisp winter air. I couldn't help but pity the poor man. All that he had once loved now only brought him pain.

"Cecilia, your job may not be to council me, but I bade you listen to me for just a moment," Max whispered suddenly, almost causing my to jump. "Why did she leave me for that… that… that nobody."

I stayed silent, studying Max's face as the obnoxious sound of Herman's awakening erupted throughout the mansion. I couldn't answer his question, no one had ever broken my heart before.

At least, not over love.

Max's expression changed from one of deep thought to one of frustration as the silence wore on, "Tell me, Cecilia, why she traded in a life of luxury and ease, a life most women would die over, for a life of dirt, and mud, and poverty."

"Well," I said quietly, making sure to speak in an understanding tone, "love can make people do illogical, and often stupid, things."

Max's tone had started to grow increasingly angry, and he pounded the table in frustration, "I loved her, Cecilia, I loved her since the day I met her. I gave her my love, my life, and my money, yet she cast it aside for some filthy farmer."

I decided to remain silent. My life had been filled with hardship and suffering, so I had learned to stare pain in the face. Max, however, had been spoiled since the day he was born. How could I possibly sympathize with him without sounding shallow?

Max's eyes burned with fury, and he smashed the tea aside with a fearsome force, "Answer me!"

I backed away immediately as Max rose from his chair, his reddened hand outstretched. What had I done to enrage him so?

The twin doors opened suddenly, causing a wave of chilled air to rush into the room. Both Max and I turned as Herman half-bounced, half-rolled, through the doorway. His fatty face brimmed with a grin as his eyes scanned the room before stopping on me.

"Cecilia, what is all the ruckus down here?" Herman laughed merrily.

"Nothing," Max hissed through yellow, unbrushed teeth.

I watched as Max slowly stormed out of the room before rising. Herman was not one who liked to wait for his breakfast.

…

A.N. This may seem like a one-shot, but I'd rather continue it if the community doesn't mind. Hope you found the chapter to your liking, and I'm sorry if it's kind of short. I've poured several days of brainstorming and three hours of typing into it, so it wasn't a simple feat. Anyway, review, review, and review.

Edit: Fixed the Jasper-Herman mix-up. Thanks LiteracyLover.

Edit #2: Fixed the _other_ Jasper-Herman mix-up and the crested-crusted words mix-up, thanks KnT.


	2. Day 7

A.N. First off, I want to thank many people who read/reviewed my first chapter. You guys are awesome!

Also, I am sorry if it took a while for me to get this chapter out. Fanfiction isn't my life (unlike some writers), so don't expect me to upload a chapter more than once a week.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rune Factory 2 or any of its respective characters.

…

_De Sainte Coquille Mansion, Winter 19th, Cecilia's P.O.V._

It's been a week since the wedding which tore Max's heart, and his life has been nothing short of a downward spiral. He now refuses to even leave his room; and the effects have been all too apparent.

"Go away," Max's hoarse voice rang as I rapped on his ornate door.

I blinked; it was depressing to watch Max's disposition worsen, I could hardly stand it. As a maid, it is my duty to obey my master without question. But maid isn't my only title; I am also Max's friend.

I knocked a second time on the closed door, completely disregarding Max's order. Then, as the sound waves echoed off the heavy door with a hollow crack, a sudden realization echoed through my mind. Never, during my entire life at the mansion, had I disobeyed a direct order.

"I said to go away," the groggy voice commanded once more, causing a wave of guilt to engulf me.

"Your tea, Max," I snapped, trying to shake off the guilt which had clung to me, but ultimately failing.

The sound of ungainly footsteps echoed softly through the air as a person, who I assumed to be Max, stumbled awkwardly towards the door. If one could die of a guilty conscience, I'd be dead.

The door flew open with a loud crash, revealing a disheveled Max. I felt inclined to help the poor man stand, as if by aiding him I could relieve some of my guilt, but I shoved the thought into the recesses of my brain. Aiding a distressed man, though it may be meant as a kind gesture, would only wound his pride.

"I told you to go away, Cecilia," the man hissed, trying to regain his composure, "and that was an order."

Anger swelled up inside me, finally engulfing the overwhelming guilt; "Here is your Orange tea, _sir_."

Max's expression changed from one of anger to one of confusion as the harsh words flowed from my mouth, "What did you say to me!"

"I said; here is your tea," I growled once more, "Max."

Max tilted his head downwards as the cruel words faded into silence to look at the china cup which sat, still hot, in my hand. His eyes, which before seemed to burn with rage, now glowed with a deep, aching sadness, "What is it Cecilia?"

My anger softened as a feeling of understanding washed over me. He only used anger to cover his true, fearful self, just as I had done to cover my guilt. How could I've spoken so cruelly to him?

"Max, I just don't want to see you-"

"Ms. Cecilia," a husky voice belonging to Herman called, interrupting me mid-sentence, "the dishes have yet to be cleared."

Frustration sprouted up in my stomach at my master's bad timed interruption, "Just a moment, sir."

"He's right, Cecilia," Max hissed, hatred once again plastered on his face. "Best return to your work."

Max's hate-filled words still rung in my ears as the heavy door slammed shut.

…

"Cecilia," Rosalind said quietly, a sparkle in her eye, "you seem quiet tonight."

I glanced over at my close friend as she dangled her feet over the edge of the city's small wooden dock. She herself had been married but half a year ago to Ray, yet it felt like a life-time. The mansion just wasn't the same without her.

"Sorry," I replied, trying my best to grin, "just tired."

"What did Herman do this time?" Rosalind chuckled inquisitively.

The soft, quiet sounds of the chirping crickets were her only answer.

"What's wrong Ceci?" Rosalind finally sighed, frustration brimming on every word.

I turned my head slowly to look at the cool water as feeling of embarrassment rose in the pit of my stomach, "I can't seem to stop worrying about Max."

Rosalind raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Max? You mean my brother Max?"

I nodded slowly as I turned to look back at Rosalind. I didn't want her to take what I had said the wrong way; I felt nothing more for him then a sense of friendship.

"Yes, that Max," I murmured softly, avoiding eye contact. "He's really let himself go lately."

Rosalind rolled her emerald eyes and laughed, "He always was a spoiled brat."

A flicker of jealousy stirred inside me as I silently studied my close friend. It was no wonder she was married first. Her foreign blue hair, her gorgeous eyes, her slender figure, it was all picture perfect. Why couldn't _I _be beautiful?

"I better get back," I said quickly, an edge entering my tone. "It was a hard day."

Rosalind blinked in confusion as a simple, yet sad, look crossed her face, "But Ceci, we just got here."

I froze in my half-standing position as her justified response echoed through my brain. Why did I suddenly feel jealous over her beauty? I had never wanted, nor needed, love, so why did I suddenly long for it now?

"You don't have a crush on my brother, do you?" Rosalind cooed suddenly in an innocent tone, making her words all the more threatening.

A blush crept onto my face as her words registered in my mind, and quickly I averted my eyes away from her. "No!"

"Well sorry, it just-"

"I really need to get back, goodnight Rosalind," I stuttered quickly, cutting the woman off mid-sentence.

…

A.N. Feelings are starting to arise within the characters, heh heh heh. Sorry if anyone is OOC (Err, out of character. That's what it means, right?), but sometimes I tweak my characters slightly (for an example, in my mind Cecilia is really in touch with her inner feelings).

Anyway, hope you liked the story. Review, review, review, that's the name of the game. Name any grammar, spelling, or name mistakes and I'll list your name along with the mistake you corrected.

- Gigous


	3. Day 14

A.N. It's Giga, back to write yet another chapter.

Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers, it really helps to know that my story is appreciated. Here are my responses to my reviews….

RW 501: Tense, *gives off a nervous laugh* tense? I'm not tense *brakes out into a cold sweat*, no, not at all!

tLoRF: First off, thanks for the review. But trust me, I'm not even close to being a good writer. I'm o.k. at writing, and I'm content with that.

LL: The plot is thickening?

Disclaimer: I don't own Rune Factory or any of its respective characters.

…

_De Sainte Coquille Mansion, Winter 29__th__, Cecilia's P.O.V._

It has been two weeks since that dreaded wedding which shook up both my life and the lives of those around me, and Max is steadily walking down the isolated road to recovery. He now allows me to visit him several times a day, and I thoroughly enjoy our small talks over tea. Of course, all this is done strictly out of friendship.

"Here is your tea, sir," I said cheerfully as I slowly shut the heavy bedroom door, "sorry if it's a bit hot."

Max glanced up at me from his unkempt bed, a small frown plastered across his newly-washed face, "Orange tea, I assume?"

I felt a small smile spread across my face as I studied the man laying prostrate just a few meters away from me. "It is," I answered softly.

A stray sunbeam engulfed the room in brilliant light as Max stretched his hand outwards receive the cup, "Thank you, Ceci."

Ceci; the nickname which Rosalind had made up for me all those years ago, echoed clear and crisp through my Elvin ears. I had never heard it whispered by any mouth but hers, that is, until now. Now it sounded sweeter than fresh honey coming out of Max's lips.

"Cecilia," Max sighed suddenly, breaking the dreamy illusion which I had momentarily fallen under, "I wish to thank you for all the time you've dedicated to helping me over these last few days. Without you, I'd probably still be locked in my room, obsessing over my misfortunes."

I felt a light blush cross my face as I turned to gather the silver tray on which I had carried the tea just a few moments ago, "Isn't that what friends are for?"

"I suppose," Max mused, his eyes flashing as if he had finally discovered the answer to a tough riddle, "though many who I assumed to be friends have deserted me now, in my darkest hour."

The soothing sound of Max sipping his tea echoed softly throughout the room as I sat and watched the man. Now that he had been washed and clothed, he did look rather handsome. Remarkably handsome, to be completely honest. Who knew that a simple makeover could make someone look so beautiful?

The realization washed over me that I was staring, and my face immediately took on the bright shade of strawberries. How could I think such thoughts about my master?

"Ms. Cecilia," Max whispered earnestly as he blew softly on the cooling liquid, "are you hot? You appear to be developing a rash."

My facial color darkened to that of blood as embarrassment flooded my system, "N, n, n, no…."

"Well whatever is the matter?" Max's voice called as the shrill clatter of dishes burst through the air. "You look as if you are about to faint."

Tears started to cloud my vision as the feeling of embarrassment overwhelmed me, and I shut my eyes quickly, "I must go."

"I'll alert Natalie," Max's voice said anxiously, making the embarrassment all the more unbearable, "something is wrong."

"No," I said quickly as I attempted to stand, "I really need to go."

"But Ms. Cecilia-"

"I'm fine, Max," I mumbled quietly as I felt the burning heat surrounding my face fade, "but I must go now, there is work to do."

I slowly opened my hot, watery eyes as I stumbled towards the door over piles of unwashed clothes and discarded toiletries. Then, as I quietly opened the dark wood door, I took one final glance back at my master.

…

"Welcome to the De Sainte Coquille Mansion," I moaned rather loudly as the large mansion doors opened in front of me.

"Hiya Cecilia," said an unfamiliar voice, "mind if we come in?"

I slowly raised my line of sight from the floor to see, of all people, Yue and Julia standing but a few meters away from me. Why the heck were those two here?

"Oh… uh… come in, please," I stuttered after a moment, still mystified to see the two near-strangers trying to enter.

Julia flashed me a sad smile as the two women passed behind me and into the mansion, "Afternoon Cecilia, I hope we weren't interrupting anything."

I shook my head slowly, "It wasn't anything important, Ms. Julia."

Awkward silence seemed to create an invisible barrier between me and the two guests as I shoved the gigantic twin doors shut. For some unusual reason, I didn't feel comfortable with Julia visiting the mansion. It was like Max's recent dislike for the fragile girl had carried over onto me.

"Well," Yue said; a half-formed smirk plastered on her face; "we don't want to take up much of your time, so to make a long story short…."

"We've come to see Max," Julia finished, her face growing slightly paler as the last word rolled out of her mouth like a sour piece of candy.

The soft patter of rain sounded from the mansion's heavy roof as the nerve-wracking silence wore on. A mixture of anger and sympathy for the silver-haired bathhouse owner boiled in my stomach as she stood, obviously uncomfortable, just an arm's length away.

"Yue should go first," I murmured slowly, only answering because the silence had become practically unbearable. "Seeing you immediately might be too big of a shock for him, Julia, so it would be best for you to wait a little while longer."

The two girls nodded in unison, and after a moment, Yue started off towards the velvet-lined stairs. Julia, however, stood completely still, even more flustered than before.

"It's o.k. if you don't want me here, Cecilia," Julia sighed after a long moment of bitter silence, "I completely understand."

A wave of guilt flooded my system as my mind slowly comprehended the woman's words, "I don't think you do."

The woman jerked her head up suddenly to stare me straight in the eyes. Instead of the usual Julia's rage, however, the woman's eyes shown with a deep sadness, and her lip quivered as if she was about to cry.

"W, w, what?" Julia whispered; her voice barely audible.

"I said you _don't_ understand," I hissed as an explosion of anger shot through my veins. "You've wounded Max so deeply that he will be scarred the rest of his life. He loved you more than anything, yet you had the audacity to throw him away like a used toy. I don't know how you live with yourself."

Julia's frown deepened as my harsh words faded into vexatious silence, "Best watch yourself Cecilia; you may fall to the same fate."

Hatred for the young woman erupted through my body at her mindless mumblings. How dare she try and tack some of her guilt onto me?

"I think it best that you leave now, Ms. Julia," I spat, the rage in my body increasing with every grueling second.

The woman nodded politely, turned around, and walked out into the pouring rain. If only she would never come back.

…

A.N. Not only is this chapter longer than the two previous chapters, but I also got it out in just under six days. Huzzah!

Anyway, I hope Yue (or any of the characters for that matter) wasn't too OOC (although Max is supposed to be slightly OOC, due to his circumstances), because I never got around to dating Yue in RF2. Also remember to review - I love my reviews.

- Sir Gigous

Edit: Soul, what exactly do you mean?

Edit: Fixed the scared-scarred mistake, thanks tLoRF (there goes my horrible spelling again :P).


	4. Day 17

A.N. Yay, another chapter in the Orange Tea saga. For some weird reason, I've actually gotten more and more inspired to write this story as time has gone on (which seems to be the opposite of most stories). That's a good thing; at least I think it is….

Anyway, thanks again for all the re/views (reviews and views). Believe it or not (you've probably noticed it already, but I'll say it again :P), I just bumped over the 100 views and 10 reviews, too, which waaaay surpassed my expectations. You guys are awesome.

LL: How dare you diss my Julia? She's, like, totally awesome in every aspect know to man.

*cough* But anyway, you actually caught that little blurb about Yue? All I'm going to say for the time being is to keep your eyes peeled for the sneaky woman (which shouldn't be too hard); she'll play a rather large part in the soon-to-be-evident plot (wait, there's a plot?).

tLoRF: I admit, Cecilia was OOC at the end of the last chapter. But, (supposedly,) Max's attitude is starting to wear off onto good ol' Cecilia.

RW 501: Gotta love Yue (though personally, I prefer white/tan women over other… ethnicities. Call me racist if it pleases you.).

SG: What exactly do you mean, did she mean Jake? I fully meant Julia, if that's what you meant, though Jake might make an appearance sometime in the far future (I really don't know O_o').

Disclaimer: I do not own Rune Factory 2 or any of it's respective characters. If I did, then Cecilia and Max really _would_ be married in the game (then Julia would be all mine :D).

…

_Alvarna docks, Spring 2__nd__, Cecilia's P.O.V._

"Rosalind, you're late," I said softly as the young woman paced slowly towards me, the bright moonlight catching her aquamarine hair ablaze in beautiful blue flames.

A magical laughter filled the air as my close friend paced, ever-slowly, towards me on the wooden dock, "Am I late, or are you just early?"

I felt a warm feeling settle in my stomach as the woman sat down just a few inches away from me. "I'm sorry mi-lady, I wasn't trying to be rude."

More giggles filled the near-silent night air as Rosalind jabbed me in the right shoulder. "Don't you get sarcastic with me."

Our girlish laughter continued on for a moment, but it soon gave way to silence. It's interesting how every moment there are a thousand sounds that fire off around you, but you are too busy to notice. The soothing sound of the breaking waves, the quiet clicks of the chirping crickets, even the soft sound of the cool wind as it whips through the half-dead grass, it all can be missed if you don't take the time to listen.

Like those peaceful sounds, a thousand different thoughts seemed to fire through my head, each wanting its chance to be spoken. Most thoughts seemed to revolve around Max, others around my tussle with Julia just few days ago, and still others about the problems of every day life. It's hard not being able to express yourself when your emotions bubble up inside of you, but such is the life of a maid. If only I could ignore those thoughts as I ignore the beautiful sounds which we were blessed with from heaven above.

"Rosalind?"

"Hm…?"

I slowly tipped my head downward to stare at the hypnotic waves that splashed up every few moments, as if on cue, onto the silver sand. "Did you hear about the incident with Julia?"

Rosalind's sweet smile immediately sunk to a disgusted frown as my words were blown past by the misty ocean winds, "I wouldn't hesitate to say the whole town has heard about it."

The warm feeling in my stomach immediately faded to a cold lump at the sound of Rosalind's words. "What?" I murmured.

As Rosalind paused, a sudden gust of wind shot between us, stinging both my eyes and my ears. Why wasn't Rosalind answering? What was she hiding from me?

"It was just so… unlike you to expel someone from the mansion, especially when all they were trying to do was make up with Max," Rosalind murmured, her sweet perfume-like smell masked by the acute winds.

I blinked. It felt so right in the moment, yet all it brought me now was guilt and embarrassment. This one incident ruined both my credibility and my self-confidence. But who would've guested that it could escalate to such a tremendous casualty?

"Well how come you acted like everything was all 'good and swell'?"

"Friends forgive and... well... try to forget. Or at least they try to avoid the backlash while pretending the event never happened."

I took a deep breath before answering, savoring the tangy smell of salty sea air mixed with oily sweat from a hard day's work, "I just don't know what came over me. It felt as if I was protecting what was mine from an intruder."

Rosalind glanced over at me suspiciously, her eyes flashing like Max's did after solving a difficult riddle. "Protecting what is yours, huh?"

I quickly averted my face as a rush of embarrassment flooded my system. "Ok…."

"Ok, what?" Rosalind said, as a smug look spread across her moonlit face.

"I might have a small-"

"Hey, Cecilia!" a cheery voice called out, interrupting me mid-sentence.

A sigh of relief quietly escaped my mouth as I turned to see Yue waddling towards Rosalind and me, "Hello Yue, what brings you here at this time of night?"

"Well, everyone excluding Yue has heard about it," Rosalind spat, obviously angered by the intrusion.

"How could she not have heard about it, she was the one visiting with Julia," I hissed quickly as Yue's soft footsteps grew ever louder.

"I don't know."

Yue flashed me a smile as she wedged down between us on the damp wooden dock. "I was just about to spend the night out here, under the stars."

I took a deep breath in, letting the rich, foreign smell of coffee engulf my senses, before smiling back, "Well, where's your sleeping bag?"

"I don't use a sleeping bag."

"Oh...," I said quietly, slightly flustered by Yue's response, "well you can just buy one from-"

"I take pride in the fact that, instead of wasting money on such luxurious amenities as a sleeping bag, I focus all my money into making my business prosper."

I slowly leaned back to take a single glimpse of my close friend as she rolled her sparkling eyes at the unusual woman, "Good for you, Yue."

A childish grin immediately spread across Yue's face, replacing the woman's already beaming smile as my polite words rang softly through the night air. "Thanks, Cecilia. Well, I better be going. The monsters will be out soon, and those creatures are all but friendly to humans."

Rosalind and I watched breathlessly as Yue jumped down from the musty dock into the small wooden boat that sat, nearly motionless, in the calm ocean water. Why had Rosalind been so cold to Yue anyway? As far as I knew they had never been much more than acquaintances, if even that. What had changed?

"Good riddance," Rosalind huffed as the small vessel slowly disappeared into the vast ocean fog which lined the dim horizon, "I thought she'd never leave."

"She was only here for a moment."

"Felt more like a lifetime."

I glanced questionly at my friend, "Why?"

Rosalind quickly averted her head away from me, causing her hair to splash up over her shoulders in a silky waterfall, "That is my buisness, and mine alone. Anyways, back to what we were talking about earlier..."

The ever-familiar feelings of nervousness and embarrassment immediately erupted through my head, "I am tired."

"No," Rosalind snapped, a sudden burst of frustration filling her every word, "you're not using that excuse again."

"Good night, Rosalind."

Rosalind said nothing in reply, so after a moment I slowly rose to leave. The warmth of a well-made bed, the friendly glow of a wax candle, even the annoying click of Egan's pencil as he tapped it upon his wooden desk, it all seemed extremely inviting compared to the conversation which Rosalind and I had just taken part in.

"Best watch yourself Cecilia..." Rosalind murmured slowly as she disappeared behind me into a thick wall of ocean mist.

...

If this chapter took too long for being so short, I apologize. My family and I were out camping for the 4th of July weekend (for those non-American people out there, the 4th of July is an important U.S. holiday), so I've only been able to work on it for a couple days. Sorry again for the long 2 week wait.

Anyways, normally I'd ask you to review, but I won't. Instead, I want you to review someone else's story (*cough* not that I wouldn't mind a review too *cough*). Remember, find any grammar, spelling, or wording mistakes and I'll list your name along with the mistake you corrected at the bottom of the page.

- Sir Gigous


	5. Day 24 part 1

A.N. Hey people, Giga's back to write another chapter in the Orange Tea saga. Sorry for a late release, but I hit a bad lazy streak. Oh well; patience is a virtue.

Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form, own Rune Factory 2 or any of its respective characters. If I did, well then….

…

_Sharper Edge Blacksmith, Spring 9__th__, 1:00 p.m., Cecilia's P.O.V._

A single droplet of hot, sticky sweat slowly rolled down the side of my face as I stood in front of the Sharper Edge Blacksmith. I had only been to see Tanya twice before, and both times it had been strictly under business. Personal shopping was a foreign concept for me, and visiting an unfamiliar store only made the nervousness all that much worse.

I slowly raised my trembling hand, moved it forward, and dropped it upon the cool brass door handle. Why was I so scared anyway? They probably wouldn't even give my visit a second thought….

But what if they reported my actions to Herman? Or even worse, Max?

I shook my head quickly, trying my best to dispel the fear-filled thoughts which clung to my brain. Then, in one impulsive motion, I turned the handle.

A wall of heat immediately washed over me as I cracked open the large door, immersing me in the spicy stench of hot smoke, "Hello?"

"'Ello love, welcome to the Sharper Edge Blacksmith," Tanya's deep voice bellowed through the misty room. "Please, come in."

I felt a knot form in my stomach as I stared at the room ahead of me. It was entirely filled with black, heavy smoke.

I shook my head, took a deep breath, and then charged in.

Tears filled my burning eyes and I choked as I slowly, step by step, made my way towards the deep voice. How could one possibly live under these conditions? You would think one would suffocate after but a few moments.

Tanya, obviously hearing my hacking gasps, once again bellowed at me, "Don't worry love, you'll get used to it after a minute."

_I'll be dead before then…_

The thought entered my head to run and never return, but I brushed it aside. "I can't see… my eyes… they burn," I stuttered between gasps of air.

Then, as I took what I thought to be my last burning breath, I felt a strong hand latch onto my floundering arm, and I was slowly pulled deeper into the dark room.

After a moment Tanya dropped me, and I slowly reopened my eyes to see a wooden desk about a meter away. The burning in my lungs had lessened significantly, and I could actually see farther than a couple centimeters in front of me.

"Sorry, Ms. Tanya," I coughed, the dim light obscuring my vision of the woman, "I failed to remember how smoky it could get in here."

"Oh, it's not normally like this," Tanya laughed heartily. "Our ventilation system broke down earlier this morning, so we're still waiting for the smoke to dispel."

"If I may, why didn't you leave the door open?"

"Who wants to visit a shop with smoke bellowing out its front door?" Tanya laughed again, acting as if I was but a young child. "Now what can I do for you, love?"

I blinked, partially to get the still-lingering smoke out of my eyes, and partially to stall for a moment. It was the moment of truth, and I could be seriously humiliated if word about it got out.

"I-I-I need-" I stammered; my face hot from both embarrassment and the heat, "I need a Proof of Warrior."

Proof of Warrior was a mask that a goblin chief would carry to show his superiority. The item got it's name thousands of year ago when, if a man managed to obtain one of these rare war-trophies from a fight, he was instantly proven to be a warrior. Thus it was called, Proof of Warrior.

Tanya raised an eyebrow, "Alright, I'll see what we have in stock. ROY!"

A rather loud groan erupted from upstairs as a young voice answered, "Yes mom."

"Check to see if we have any Proof of Warriors in stock," Tanya shouted once again, her words echoing around the room for several moments before fading.

I turned my attention back towards the stairs as the sound of falling objects erupted through the air. Max used to collect Proof of Warrior as a hobby, as none are ever the same, but he immediately abandoned the habit after the 'Event'.

Three quick knocks rang, crisp and clear, upon the shop's iron metal door as Roy responded in a shrill yell, "We only got one!"

I watched out of the corner of my eye as the door opened and a dim figure entered, "What's your price?"

Tanya grinned, "Well love, normally it'd be 1000g, but I'll only charge you 500g."

500g? The average Proof of Warrior was worth only 50g.

"250g, and it's a deal," I said quickly, trying to get the interaction over with before the mysterious figure could come any closer.

"400g."

I scowled, but I slowly reached into my pocket and took out the 400g. Then, as I slowly dropped the cold metal coins into the woman's hand, she grinned triumphantly like a proud warlord, "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Cecilia?" a man's voice called from just a few meters away, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand straight up. It was Ray, Rosalind's wife and Max's best friend. He would definitely know who the item was for.

"Oh, hey Ray," I stammered quickly as I turned towards the man. "Fancy meeting you here."

Ray smiled warmly, his eyes still watering from the thick smoke, "I agree, I've never seen you here. Anyways, Tanya, I need some Fire Crystal."

"Coming right up, hon," Tanya said with a wide grin as Roy near-silently walked down the nearby stairs.

"Cecilia, here's the Proof of Warrior," the boy mumbled sleepily as he slowly stumbled towards me.

Roy's loud words immediately caught Ray's attention, and his eyes were immediately glued upon the small bag, "What's that for?"

The panic siren immediately sounded throughout my head, "It's a present for Max."

"And why would Max need a present?"

"To cheer him up?"

Ray laughed, and I glanced back nervously at Tanya to see if she was paying any heed to our conversation. She was.

"Come on, Cecilia, I know you have a crush on Max."

"But I don't-"

Ray laughed once more, cutting me off before I could finish my feeble excuse, "Rosalind told me all about your two's talk."

"Oh really?" Tanya cooed with a mischievous smirk. "So little Cecilia is in love with her master? I was wondering what use a maid would have for a Proof of Warrior."

My face, now crimson, burned with a fire close to the heat of Hell, "Please don't tell, please!"

"Oh come on, love," Tanya chuckled, her large chest convulsing with deep laughter, "we've all had a secret crush at one time or another."

"Promise me you won't tell, though," I said desperately as every alarm in my head screamed bloody murder.

"I promise," the large woman answered.

"I do too, now you best get back," Ray said as his small chuckle silently faded, "Max wanted something."

…

The next chapter will pick up where this chapter left off. I hope you liked it.

Unfortunately, nothing really happened in this chapter…. I was really hoping to add in some more junk to help move the plot along, but there's no such luck.

Anyway, catchya next time :D.

- [Sir Gigous]-


	6. Day 24 part 2

I'll admit; I haven't been exactly consistent with this story's updates. The reason for that is because I lost my drive for this story. To be completely honest, I had lost my inspiration for this story by chapter 3, and it probably showed in my writing. Whether my loss of inspiration was due to the unexpected pressure I felt to pump chapters out, or just because I never really liked the Max/Cecilia pairing, I don't know, but what matters now is that I'm back, and hopefully I'll be able to follow through this time.

Also, I have another issue: I've lost my RF2 game. This may pose an issue in the character department, since God knows how hard it can be for me to keep people in-character. If anyone becomes too OOC, please let me know, whether it be by PM or review.

Anyways, I'm actually going to tweak the plot for this story a bit, so some foreshadowing in past chapters may never come to pass. I'm hoping this plot will work better than the last one.

Onto the story!

...

_De Sainte-Coquille Mansion, Spring 9__th__, 1:30 p.m., Cecilia's P.O.V._

The large twin doors of the De Sainte Mansion towered over top of me like an insuperable giant; imposing and threatening. Their large frame, designed with luxurious silver patterns inscribed into thick blue paint, stood before me, completely blocking the afternoon sun and casting an eerie shadow over a large section of the paved street behind me.

The sight of the twin doors normally brought me the sweet feelings that one would feel towards a home, like their towering figures could protect me from whatever threatened to knock me down, but they now intimidated me. Instead of being a faithful protector, the doors had become an insurmountable barrier to my goal.

Suddenly becoming conscious of my impractical thoughts, I shook my head violently. What was I doing? I had blown this small crush out of proportion. I had simply bought my master a small gift; what was so unprofessional about that?

I let a silent sigh escape from between my pale lips into the cool spring air; I knew why I was so hesitant to give Max this gift. It had nothing to do with professionalism. It had nothing to do with my master. It had everything to do with my past.

As if on cue, images began to flash before my eyes. Painful memories that I hadn't dared touch upon in years began to play through my head; memories that I had spent my entire life in Alvarna trying to forget.

_-Initiate flashback-_

_The rain fell heavily from the heavens, drenching the Earth in a sleek, glossy coat of clear liquid. The dim, clouded moon in the night sky reflected off of the deserted streets with an eerie glow, and the quick patter of rain was the only sound that could be heard against the paved road._

_To the maiden upon the beach, however, the drenching downpour seemed distant. Dressed in little more than a thin, white nightgown, she stood tall against the serene bay behind her; her messy ginger-red hair obscuring her eyesight as she stared, as if in a trance, at the shack before her. She had stood there for what had seemed like ages, although only a few minutes had actually passed since she had first arrived at the spot where she stood._

_Her mind was locked in a heated battle against itself; a battle of which had been raging on within her head for almost the entire night. The battle within her mind was a battle which she felt was ripping her into two perfect halves. Half of her sided with her emotions, while the other half sided with reason._

_The girl, being just over 17, sighed at last, breaking the trance which she had previously been bewitched in. It had been four long years that she had felt the way she did, and yet she had always kept silent. It wasn't like her to obscure her feelings behind a mask; she had always been the happy-go-lucky one of the two, while he had grown to be mature and down-to-earth. She had longed those four years to embrace him, to tell him how she really felt. The girl would've, too, had he showed any signs of returning her feelings._

_No, she thought, the harsh word burned into her brain, it was impossible. He couldn't return her feelings. Not after her countless attempts to spark even the slightest response from the boy. She had, unknown to the boy, given her heart to him, and he, seemingly oblivious, had crushed it._

_The girl remained silent as she slowly began walking, step by step, towards the shack's large door; her hand fingering the aquamarine ring which had been placed deep within her waterlogged pocket. It was the ring with which she was to profess her true feelings with._

_The ring signified more to her than a present, though. It signified that she was willing to sacrifice her only possession of value for this boy: her aquamarine._

_As the shack slowly grew the girl quickened her walking pace. When she came within an arm's length of the shack's large door, however, she stopped. The same, skeptic voice echoed through her head once more, whispering the disastrous results this last attempt could cause if it failed. The thought made her shutter, and she quickly shut the voice out of her mind. This was her last chance to confess her feelings. The boy she loved was leaving the next morning, and if she didn't try she would regret it for the rest of her life._

_The girl slowly raised her hand to knock upon the door, confident that she wouldn't shy away, no matter what followed. Then, as her knuckle came within inches of the wooden door, a million thoughts burst throughout her mind, and her heart began to beat with the ferociousness of an angry Buffamoo. Despite all this, however, she slowly knocked upon the door._

_With a sudden screech that almost made her scream, the door slowly swung inwards before her: the door hadn't been closed. The sight that met her eyes inside the house; however, made her previously pounding heart stop within her chest. Before her stood her love, Nicolas, locked in a passionate embrace with Felicity which suggested more than just a kiss was to follow._

_Everything hit the girl at once, causing the very Earth to spin beneath her. The way he held her exposed figure in his firm arms, and the way she clutched to his solid figure made her feel nauseated. At that moment the girl wished for nothing more than to run, leaving the two before her back to their shady business, but her feet refused to move._

_A flash of lightning clapped through the sky as the girl stood paralyzed in the doorway, catching Nicolas' attention. His eyes then lit up a moment later as he suddenly detected the girl standing in the doorway, and he immediately shoved Felicity away from him, "Cecilia!"_

_Cecilia, still disoriented from the initial shock of the scene, felt her eyes fill with tears. A sudden burst of rage pulsated through her veins, and she screamed at Nicolas, "You bastard! I gave away my entire heart to you, and yet you cast it aside for this filth!"_

_Then, as tears of anger and hate streamed down her cheeks, Cecilia threw her ring at her true love and ran off into the night._

_-End flashback-_

Suddenly, reality hit me like a brick wall, and it felt as if all the air inside of me had been crushed out. I gasped for air, tears forming in my burning eyes. No, I was afraid to give Max my gift because that would signify that I had fallen for him. I was afraid that, if I was to give my heart away again, the next person would crush it all the same, and I wasn't willing to go through the pain that I had to bear for years after the incident. Not again; my heart wouldn't take it.

Through my blurred eyesight I saw the large doors before me shutter for a moment, and then they opened to reveal Rosalind. She shouted out a greeting of surprise, but by then I was gone.

I sprinted towards the inn; hot tears streamed down my burning cheeks. I wasn't ready to admit my crush. I wouldn't let someone break my heart; not again.

...

There we go; the next chapter of Orange Tea! Hope you all enjoyed it. If you didn't fully understand the flashback don't worry, it will be retold in a later chapter

Another note: I know I overuse semicolons, and misuse different grammatical symbols, so if you notice anything wrong grammar-wise, please inform me, whether through PM or review. Also, I know Felicity is too old for Nicolas. I apologize, but I needed _someone_ for the scene with Nicolas, and she looked to be the youngest bachelorette to me.

Anyways, review if it pleases you. I know it's been a while since I updated, but some good reviews always help me pump out a chapter faster than not.

-[Sir Gigous]-


	7. Day 26

A.N. So… yeah. It's been 15 months since my last update. And I used to think 3-4 month updates were a long time.

So why did I come back? I don't really know, to be honest. I just felt like writing again, and remembered this old story. No one probably cares about this story anymore (except "CecilliaxMax 4EVAH", who I thank for their encouragement), but I just feel like finishing it up. I figure it can't hurt.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, save an idea.

…

De Sainte-Coquille Mansion, Spring 11th, 11 a.m., Cecilia's P.O.V.

I reached over and grabbed another dirty plate from the pile beside me. Dipping it inside the tub of soapy water before me, I began to scrub ferociously at the sticky mixture of gravy, scrambled eggs, and grease which had anchored itself onto the plate. At first it resisted my constant scrubbings, clinging to the smooth porcelain surface as it was assaulted by the rough dish rag, but it eventually gave in, coming off in bits and chunks as the dish was plunged once more into the murky liquid. Lunch was in an hour and a half; the second largest meal of the day, yet I hadn't even finished cleaning up after brunch. Herman was not one to wait for his lunch….

At the thought of delaying Herman's lunch, I began to scrub harder; my arm burning as I chipped away at the residue. However, just as I was about to submerge the china once again, I heard another giggle bubble through the cracks of the double doors behind me; its resounding noise broken only by the clatter of porcelain upon the bottom of the tub. I scowled, sliding my arm across my sweaty forehead as a flare surged through my veins.

She was laughing again.

Reaching into the dirty water, I retrieved the ornate dish from the bottom of the tub, drying it with care before placing it upon the clean pile. Then, after placing the polished plate upon the nearby counter, I slowly outlined the Proof of Warrior in my pocket with my damp index finger; sparks igniting within my breast which I both embraced and resisted. Just my friend. _My_ friend.

I continued to whisper that to myself as I reached for another plate, a sick feeling stirring inside my stomach as more of her noise was carried in from the outer room. She had been visiting Max a lot over the last few weeks; ever since she had arrived with Julia the day I lost my temper. Starting under the guise of business, her visits quickly became more frequent. And while I first paid little heed, her newfound tendency to laugh at his every word over these last few days suggested that her motives might be a bit more personal than she lets on.

A sigh slipped out from between my lips, dispersing itself into the fumes of the dish soap. I could never relax when she was near him. The impulse to break their conversation always overcame me whenever I passed near them together; my nerves always tensed, responses becoming brief and eyes averted.

I set down another spotless plate and grabbed a dirty glass, bathing it in the tub of chemicals before using a damp cloth to clean out the inside of the cup. The Flower Festival was nearing; the second most romantic festival of the year was only two days away. I had never really seen the appeal in the festival. Did the shedding of the trees' beautiful petals really require its own festival? People really thought the gliding of those silky petals through the air was romantic? The soft whisper of the wind in one's ear; the showering of crimson sunlight upon the one with whom you shared your affection; the serenity of a silent scene spent in pure ardor with the individual of your adoration; was it really…?

I felt my aching arm slow its movement at the thought of it all. I could almost see the pink petals falling around me, showing me in silk as I sat with….

For the second time that morning I heard the splash of glass striking the water as I reached for a towel, hurriedly drying the small pools of water which had rained down upon the dishes and counter. It wasn't like that. Not between us. I mean, he didn't think of me like that. I shouldn't think of him like that. And it wouldn't work. It shouldn't work. It _couldn't_ work.

However, as I heard yet another giggle taunt me, I silently admitted to myself that I wish it could.

…

The plot has been set in motion; it's a downward slide from here, folks!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading. I realize my writing skills are probably a bit rusty from the year long hiatus, but hopefully it was at least tolerable. And as to this chapter itself, well, let's just say it's setting up the plot for the rest of the story, since I've received feedback that the story is progressing a bit too slowly.

Until next time.

-[Sir Gigous]-


	8. Flower Festival

A.N. Yeah, it's been another unnecessarily long absence since my last update. I apologize, but make no promises as to my future updates. I'm hoping to finish this story one day, but making empty promises as to a fanfic's completion really does nothing in the end besides cause disappointment. Regardless, I do hope to continue updating, at any rate.

Anyway, due to my absence, I have rewritten Orange Tea's plot once again. However, unlike my previous two drafts, I have actually done this in a fair level of detail, planning out the events of every individual chapter. Hopefully this will keep the story organized, unlike the first several chapters during which I was still trying to discern the story's general direction. Although I will have to post a forewarning—the current plotline is a fair bit darker than what I had previously planned.

Also, you may notice my writing style has changed quite a bit since my last chapter. If you don't like it, please voice your opinion, and I'll try to emulate my older style more closely.

Disclaimer: I own naught, save an idea.

…

_Cherry Blossom Square, Spring 13__th__, 9:15 a.m., Cecilia's P.O.V._

I tried to conjure my visualizations of this event back from a distant memory, desperately trying to recapture the amorous feelings I had one experienced at the very thought of this occurrence taking place. Fanciful thoughts of the silky wind bathing my figure were quickly dispersed by chilled currents of air, the likes of which caused my skin to prickle and limbs to vibrate involuntarily. The petals, visualized to be like that of a pale velvet blush, clawed at each other, their skin course and color pallid as they were blown into my face and hair. Had I really considered this, of all things, romantic?

Unable to completely focus my thoughts, I felt my hands fidget upon my subdued, red blouse; legs tapping rapidly upon the ground as my eyes wandered to the figure upon the bench beside me. It was Max. Dressed in little more than a light blue shirt and jeans, the hair upon his muscular arms stood on edge as he himself sat, fingers twitching slightly, just next to me; his attention diverted to the background as he his eyes silently processed the desolate surroundings.

Suddenly, he refocused his attention back onto the present situation, our eyes meeting momentarily as he silently scrutinized my face. I felt my body nearly recoil from shock as a flutter sent shockwaves throughout my stomach, almost making me want to wretch. I just had to calm down. I was taking the situation far too seriously; many couples simply observed the beauty of the flower festival in silence.

In an attempt to take my mind off the disruption in my breast, I allowed my thoughts to recount the events which had led up to my current situation, hoping the distraction would slow my racing heart. I had arisen early this morning, sleep having forsaken me through the night, with the intention of asking Max to the festival. Rather than braid my hair, I allowed it to hang loose across my torso, meanwhile applying what little blush I had to my cheeks. Rosalind had said appearing casual in nature would make me appealing without implying an expectancy on my part, and white I doubted the advice at the time, I was willing to try anything to secure myself my date.

But then what had happened? It all seemed to meld together into a mass of clouded thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I had confronted Max as soon as he had left the privacy of his chamber, although the words spoken were muted in favor of an adrenaline rush, which was all I could remember. Had he asked me? Had I asked him? For being such a recent memory, my head was oddly foggy.

I felt my gaze wander to Rosalind and Ray, who were themselves residing only a short distance away. Despite their chatter being inaudible, I could see their lips moving silently as they undoubtedly whispered words of love to one another. An impulse to speak rose within my throat, my body wanting to twitch as I glanced quickly in Max's direction. Weren't we supposed to speak to one another while admiring the flowers? The silence, far from that of comfortable companionship, was unbearable, and I could see Max himself shift in position as his shoes dug restlessly into the dirt.

I had finally managed to engage Max alone, yet all I could do was fiddle impatiently. The thought alone made my chest restrict further as my line of sight shot about aimlessly, sweat staining my carefully combed hair.

"So, uh," Max said suddenly, almost causing me to cringe at his faltering voice, "what a day to be out, eh?"

I attempted to release the pressure in my breast with a laugh. It didn't work. "Yeah, I guess."

Another pause stifled the conversation, this one of a very unpleasant nature. The man beside me shifted his weight once again in response, digging his right heel into the ground as his eyes darted upwards. "So…, how _did_ you manage to cook that Lover Shashimi for Herman last night? I heard it takes a level 66 cooking skill to create."

"Level 66-what? I… don't understand, sir," a large blush flushed across my face, magnified by my inward turmoil as I realized my mistake. "I meant _Max_. Excuse me."

A chuckle spilled forth from Max's mouth as what appeared to be a genuine grin flashed across his face. "Lighten up, Cecil! It's the flower festival, not one of Gordon's sermons. At least here, you don't have to pretend to be awake."

While only friendly in nature, I felt Max's hand place itself upon my far shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. The warmth of his touch causing a shiver to travel up my spine, a desire to snuggle up against him flooded through me; my heart beat quickened once more at the thought of it. Should I show such affection? I wanted it, but what if Max was merely being friendly? I didn't want to frighten Max by being too affectionate, but I didn't want to come off as cold either….

Suddenly realizing my master was expecting a reply, I spit out the foremost thought in my brain. "You're warm."

It hadn't dawned on me how sporadic the statement sounded until Max, his reaction delayed, gave little more than a half-hearted chuckle in response. Silence smothered the little spark that had temporarily been lit between us, and I felt the arm upon my shoulder retract slowly; shriveling like the lifeless petals blown in the wind.

Feeling my ribcage contract sharply, I felt my eyes turn reflexively to Rosalind for support, hoping to see some sign of acknowledgement from my best friend. But she was distracted, as should've been expected, and I felt myself resign to the mixture of hormones coursing through my veins. This wasn't like me. I wasn't one to be controlled and abused by my emotions. I had to take courage; work through the uncertainty I so disliked and forcibly apply myself as I did to my daily chores.

"Sorry for seeming distant," I began, my confidence forsaking me but speech strong regardless. "It's just been a while since I went to the flower festival. And I was worried you'd feel awkward too, since at this same time last year you were passionately in love with Julia."

At the mention of Julia, Max's composure tightened; his gaze cast downward as he slowly opened and closed his mouth. He didn't respond immediately, instead preferring to pick his words carefully so as to emphasize his point. While silence did remain, the previous tension seemed to have loosened within me, and I was able to admire his beautiful eyes without shame.

His tone deepened slightly, Max finally spoke, "I was thinking about that as well. I'd…, like to think that I've moved on. I hope I have. But I will admit I miss her. Sometimes."

Pausing, Max's eyes scanned my face, to which I responded with an understanding nod.

"I remember when we were younger. I was just a teenager when she arrived in town-not unlike her husband-with her past shrouded in mystery. I didn't think anything of her then. Of course, that changed with time, though. We talked at a few social events, I took a few dips at the bathhouse, and before I knew it, I was in love with her. Rose told me it was just puppy love, but I knew it was more than that. I've flirted with a lot of women, but I know the difference."

"You know, I still remember my third flower festival with her. Just like it was yesterday. That's… t-that's…," the man's voice faltered momentarily, although from what I did not know. "That's when I first told her I loved her. And she said she loved me back."

I felt a sudden weight of guilt upon my conscience as Max studied the cherry blossoms with unprecedented intensity, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed. Despite having worked at the mansion for years, I had never been aware of such an event taking place. Even if it had, I had no memory of it. It almost made me sick, to think I cared so little about my master that I forget such an important event in his life.

"But I try not to think about that anymore. Not to burden you down with silly old nostalgia," Max resumed, his pitch returning to normal as he noticeable relaxed his previously tense muscles. "What can I say? I'm a bachelor at heart, and quite a sexy one at that."

Unsure of whether to respond to Max's humorous remark or the sensitive topic discussed directly before, I felt the unwanted memories of that night resurfacing, causing me to realize its similarities to Max's history. While my tale didn't include a broken romantic vow, would it be possible to restate my story in such a way to gain Max's sympathy? I had never relived that accursed evening with another individual before—not even Rosalind—, and I could feel guilt forming in my stomach at the thought of partially deceiving an individual for personal gain. Yet at the same time, it was rather tempting….

Just as a reply had formed within my throat, the arrival of a previously unnoticed individual caught my attention, causing me to swallow my words. Unsure of who would interrupt a date during the Flower Festival, I found more than just my speech sinking within my stomach as my eyes perused the offender. It was Yue. A brief sentiment of spite replaced my previous dialogue in response to her entrance, but as my initial vexation settled, the realization that my agitation was due to my own incompetence rather than Yue caused me to reconsider my course of action.

"Hey, Max," Yue began, attempting to prevent the formation of a wide grin upon her face as she approached from the opposite side of Max's body. "Ah. And, uh, hello, Cecilia. I… didn't notice you there." The flush accompanying her second statement caused me to realize the fault in my initial assumption of her motives, and I felt a blush spread across my face at the thought of voicing my false suspicions.

"No, it's okay, Yue," I found myself saying, doing so as atonement for the guilt I now found suffocating me, "I know you didn't see me. We were almost done, anyway."

"I can't apologize enough, Cecilia. I should've realized Max was occupied, since he's watching the flowers on the flower festival. Sometimes I just forget about these traditions when I travel…."

"You really must be more careful, milady," Max remarked, a distinct downward curve in his lips as he rose from the bench, eyes glinting in the intensifying sunlight. "My guest and I may have just finishing up, dear, but that doesn't mean you can interrupt."

I felt the guilt begin to boil into irritation at the unsuited label Max placed upon the woman beside him, but a weak acknowledgment was all I replied regardless, "Are you leaving?"

"Yes, miss Cecilia. And thank you for participating in the festival with me, as I really enjoyed it. I'll be seeing you over dinner, I presume?"

Despite attempting to mask it, there was obviously a hint of delight on Max's face as he turned to Yue, extending his arm as did so. Did he feel fervor in abandoning me so? Perhaps it really had been I who had requested our date, and Max was now relieved to escape the commitment of what amounted to little more than the polite gratification of my wish. A sort-of 'payback' for the assistance I had lent him during his time of need. The brisk spring wind seemed much harsher than it had before at the thought of this possibility.

As my love and rival began to stroll towards town, however, Max's head turned slightly, his eye meeting my jealous glare as what I swore to be a wink was exchanged between us. The accompanying jolt of adrenaline through my veins almost caused me to feel light-headed.

I felt my gaze return to the blossoms before me as my mind attempted to process the sequence of events that had just occurred. Looking at the scenery once more, though, a sudden exhalation spilled forth from my lips as I gazed at the environment's unanticipated luminosity. Seemingly magnified in Max's absence, rays of the strengthening sun caught the flowers in a fulgent hue, the soft, cool wind causing them to shift rhythmically through the air in a captivating dance. Vivid in nature, the previously sallow pink petals seemed to revive as I reached out and caught one between my fingers, admiring its soft texture despite its fragility.

It struck me as odd, how beautiful the scene suddenly felt in juxtaposition to the lifelessness that had occupied my vision just moments earlier. I wanted to justify this phenomenon by saying its elegance paled in comparison to Max's grandeur, but something prevented me from doing so. Rather, a silent thought suggested that, rather than simply fading in contrast, it was being subjugated in order to prevent the possibility of dominance and rebellion. After all, wasn't a human being supposed to be the greatest of God's creation?

I quickly dispersed the idea, and accredited both it and my faulty eyesight as a symptom of poor sleep.

Moments later, I felt myself rise to my feet, preparing to return to the mansion and my awaiting master. However, as the first steps were taken, I noticed Jake concealed in the shade a distance ahead, his line of sight focused in the direction that Yue and Max had travelled shortly before. Before I could make any further action, though, he turned to face me momentarily, almost as if he sensed my observance of his location. Our eyes interlocking briefly, he gave a silent nod before disappearing into the undergrowth behind him, likely on his way back to town. How odd.

I resumed my journey as I began to recount the meals that had been planned for the day.

…

A.N. And there it is. I realize this chapter was quite a bit longer than usual, due largely to my emphasis upon description, but a lot occurred in it as well, so I feel it's justified. Not to mention the sheer amount of groundwork which was laid, considering the new plotline. Although don't worry, I've managed to work a lot of what was established in earlier chapters into the plot as well.

As always, review at your leisure, and I thank you for reading. If possible, tell me your opinion on my new writing style. In the mean time, thank you for your support.

-[Sir Gigous]-


	9. Spring 20h

A.N. First and foremost, I apologize for the delay. Due to the unfortunate infection of my hard drive by a nasty virus, I had to format it back to the manufacturer default, meaning I essentially lost everything save a few of my older files. As a result, the development of this chapter was set back quite a bit, but as you can see, it is finished nonetheless.

On the topic of this most recent chapter, I don't really have any important comments, other than a forewarning that it will probably contain more cursing that the rest of the story combined. I tend to dislike using curse words, as I feel they're largely unnecessary in most circumstances, but in this case I feel they're justified. Things should hopefully make sense later.

Anyway, this chapter turned out rather long, especially given how inconsequential it may seem. I inserted a little backstory and foreshadowing, which bolstered its length a bit, but otherwise I suppose I just went a bit crazy. Hopefully you enjoy.

Also, special thanks to Anthea for your continued support. It's amazing, the inspiration one single supporter can give to an author when they're feeling apathetic. I'm sorry I made you wait so long for this next installment.

Disclaimer: I own naught, save an idea.

...

_Misty Farm, Spring 20th, 2:15 p.m., Cecilia's P.O.V._

Carefully harboring a Seafood Pizza in my grasp, I walked silently towards Kyle's farm, liquid pooling within my jaw as the food's delicious scent emanated throughout the air. Despite it bringing me grief to do so, I had only done a cursory job on my daily chores, deciding instead to devote the majority of my afternoon to mending a broken friendship. With any luck, I could find some private council with the individual before she was to open the bathhouse.

Nearing the home, I paused to admire the lush fields adjacent to the farmhouse, the serenity of the flourishing produce causing a feeling of exuberance to arise within me. Past recollections of the man who had nurtured the wasteland back to fruition began to reappear before my eyes, forcing me to temporarily halt in order to observe my memories. He had arrived here so long ago that to remember the period before his appearance felt unnatural, but as I gazed upon the vivacity before me, the retrospection proceeded nonetheless.

Fascination with the man had been the general sentiment upon his arrival, since no person had taken permanent residence in the town for years. Not to mention the effect his mysterious past had upon the town gossip—he was on the lips of every person in town, with some of the women even desiring this literally. His consistent harvests even helped energize the town's otherwise moribund economy, and his cordial, if not occasionally unctuous, mannerisms only elevated his social status amongst the townsfolk.

Allure can only last so long, though, before the enchantment eventually fades, revealing all the issues the man created simply due to his existence. Over the course of half a year, he destroyed almost every romantic relationship in town, garnering a harem while the other bachelors were left devastated that their paramours would so hastily desert them. Due to his aggressive exploration of the local dungeons, the monsters occupying them—before solitary and relatively peaceful—became hostile in retaliation, repelling what few tourists the town regularly received. And without tourism, the already decrepit economy silently collapsed into irrelevance. The entirety of the population—with the exception of the De Sainte Coquille family—became almost exclusively reliant upon Kyle for the very food which they devoured. After all, without a constant influx of merchants and travelers, where else could the villagers turn for both income and nourishment save the occasional fishing vessel? Granted, the town's various stores remain open to this day, but they are now little more than shambled facades, hollow storefronts dedicated solely to their only reliable customer: Kyle.

I began to feel alienated amidst my own memories. In juxtapose, the current village seemed strangely disparate when compared with this forgotten community of the past. Kyle's impact upon the town and its population was unmistakable, but whether this influence was actually beneficial was debatable, especially in light of Max's recent grief. Julia was blessed to be the man she loved, but Max could've cared for her equally well, if not better.

Continuing my approach towards the establishment, a buzz began to fill the air, the volume of which increased as I neared closer. Audible yelling could be heard from within the home in the form of a vicious altercation, although individual words were incomprehensible. An odd mixture of curiosity and antipathy arose within me at the development, and I wasn't sure how to react due to my lack of knowledge concerning the situation. What was going on in there?

An urge arose within me to place my ear against the thin wooden door, thus allowing me to understand what was being said. It was incredibly impolite of me to do so, I knew, but at the same time I felt an insatiable curiosity propelling me to act. Dismissing the question of what I was to do if someone was in any potential danger, I placed my ear slowly against the door, carefully remaining balanced in order to allow a swift escape should the door open suddenly.

"Don't you blame this on me, _Kyle_," a sharp voice snapped, slicing cleaning through the silence in a commanding tone."You know _damn_ well I told you to stay away from that woman!"

A muffled reply could be heard, but I failed to make out its contents. Regardless, it appeared cut short by the sound of an object being thrown to the floor.

"You filthy liar, I know you were mingling with her yesterday! Quit feeding me this _crap_ or I swear, you will—"

"Will what, Julia?" the previously suppressed voice responded as its source moved closer to the door, tone defensive, "You don't _own_ me. I'm an adult. I don't have to stand for this vituperation just because I don't conform to your preconceived fantasies. I'm pretty sure I have my own life under control, or are you trying to manipulate _that_ too?"

"You may be an adult, but you're still only a foolish man. You don't think I know women's body language? You're pandering to that… that _epicurean whore_, Kyle, and you _know_ it!"

"Oh, so now _I'm_ the one feeding someone's infatuations," a loud impact could be heard as the voice heightened in volume, "What do you call that '_quality time_' spent over at the—oh wait! Sorry, I wasn't supposed to know about that, now was I?"

Shattering the silence, the sound of an explosive collision almost caused me to drop the plate in my grasp, and I stumbled backward from the door in surprise. My gaze drawn to the thin wall shielding the home's interior, an eruption of ambiguous yelling saturated the air, and I heard one voice beginning to approach the exit. Scrambling in an attempt to distance myself from the entrance, a heavy guilt developed in my stomach at my previous actions, and I considered absconding while my presence was still unnoticed.

Before I could act, though, the disruption halted as swiftly as it began. The click of the front door's handle cut through the sudden silence, a soft hiss following as the doorway opened, revealing Kyle. Seemingly unaware of the previous shouting, he casually retrieved a shortsword from its sheath as he exited the building, a disheartened look upon his worn visage. This expression changed, however, upon noticing me, and he turned to face my direction, revealing an oddly red welt upon the upper left side of his face.

"Good afternoon, Cecilia," he attempted to grin, the action uncovering small pieces of food in his otherwise immaculate smile. "What brings you here? Don't tell me Herman ate all of the produce again."

"Hello, Mr. Kyle," I responded, trying to suppress my inquires as to the altercation that had occurred just moments earlier, "I came to visit Ms. Julia, as I have some business with her I need to resolve."

The right side of the man's expression faltered at this statement, and he turned his face downward, thrusting the tip of his shortsword into the ground with unprecedented vigor. "I… don't think now is a good time. Julia's feeling rather irritable today, and needs some time to sort herself out before the Bathhouse opens."

"Excuse me for asking, Kyle, but I heard yelling before you came out, and I was concerned. What is… well, that is to say, is everything okay?"

Tensing, Kyle slowly retracted the blade from its earthen pedestal, an unnaturally large grin plastered across his face as he shifted away from me. "Everything is great, Cecilia. Just…, don't bother Julia right now. I think it'd be best for everyone if she was left alone."

I watched as Kyle slowly walked westward towards the distant dungeons. Something definitely felt abnormal in the nature of both Kyle's statements and actions. He normally communicated with such perspicuity that his unusually reserved manner felt oddly suspicious, especially given the circumstances. Admittedly, I'm not exactly skilled at interpreting the emotions of others, but I felt my curiosity lead me to the farmhouse's front door nonetheless, despite Kyle's request.

Raising my clenched fist to the front door, the weight of guilt within my stomach intensified as I rapped upon it with caution, a gust of heat temporarily enveloping me as the door slid partially open. The difference between the interior and exterior lighting was immediately noticeable as I peered inside, as was the stifling temperature and faint smell of smoke. However, rather than the aforementioned anomalies, my attention was instantaneously drawn to the figure slumped over the fireplace across the room, the likes of which appeared to be a disheveled Julia.

"_Damn_ it!" the character screamed suddenly, forcing me to secure my left foot behind me to avoid stumbling. "Just, ah, shut up…. The hell, Kyle, I _told_ you. You know what I said. Just, just don't give me any more of those _lies_. I mean, sh—"

Freezing mid-sentence, Julia's expression suddenly contorted into that of abhorrence as she turned to look at me, the realization that I was not Kyle suddenly dawning upon her. We remained in that deadlock for several seconds, both attempting to accurately assess the present situation. Considering her generally proper mannerisms and etiquette, hearing Julia use such vulgar language alone caused a feeling of diffident insecurity to suffocate me, and I immediately regretted ignoring Kyle's advice.

"Um, hello, Cecilia," Julia choked out, "I can't tell you how sorry I am for my outburst. I… I thought you were, uh…."

"Kyle," I finished the statement, my eyes thrust downward as I stared at the shaking plate in my grasp.

"I'm really sorry, Cecilia. P-please, j-just forget everything you heard. I just got a little upset. And oh, I look like such a mess. I'll be right back…," Julia began to dash towards the stairwell, but realizing this was likely my only chance to do so, I moved to intercept her trajectory.

"No," I stated, attempting to subjugate the woman before she could flee. "Wait, Julia, it's okay. I… I overheard most of the fight. Or, at least a good portion of it. We need to talk about this…."

Managing to dash inside and block her path, I watched as Julia cowered away from me, voice trembling as her gaze remained averted, "Some things are best left undiscussed, Ms. Cecilia. Now please move, I desperately need to change out of this hideous attire into something more suitable."

Forcing a smile to form upon my face, I attempted to reassure her, my tone calm and collected, "You look beautiful, Julia. Really. Much better than I do in these rags of mine, at any rate," an impassive chuckle spilled from my mouth as Julia finally moved to return my gaze, "Come on, I even brought you some Seafood Pizza…!"

Despite attempting to contain it, a small smile spread across Julia's otherwise anemic face.

…

Carefully utilizing both her knife and fork, Julia dissected the reheated Seafood Pizza into small bite-sized cubicles, a small portion of a pearly-white tooth visible as she bit her lip in concentration. Forward and backward she jerked her right appendage, attempting to sever the hardened morsels to little avail. Then, detecting my observing gaze, she briefly allowed an exacerbated smile to form upon her face before refocusing her attention back onto the task before her.

"So," I began, attempting to loosen Julia's reserved demeanor, "how exactly _do_ you cook in here, since I don't believe this house has a kitchen."

"Well," Julia stammered, still preoccupied as she paused before completing her reply, "that is… a… very good, uh, question."

"I'm glad you think so, Ms. Julia."

"Huh?" questioned the woman in front of me, her gaze now focused upon my position across the table as she finished dissecting her meal. "I'm really sorry, Cecilia, but I was distracted and didn't quite catch what you said."

"It's… of no concern," a feeling of unease settled in my throat as I responded, my mind struggling to devise an adequate topic for discussion. "Anyway, how has the bath house been since you married Kyle? I'm sure your responsibilities on the farm keep you at least somewhat occupied."

"Living on the farm isn't like I first expected," Julia remarked, a smile masking the movements of her jaw as she ingested her food. "Kyle takes care of most of the chores, which I hadn't expected, since there isn't a lot else for him to do other than combat. I don't care for the grime of the farming life, to be honest, although I realized I'd have to compensate for that long before I committed to marriage. But, on the other hand, the farming life isn't quite as dull as living in a sterile bathhouse. Repetitive maybe, but not dull, as contradictory as that may sound. I swear, the fumes from the bathes used to give me a migraine after being exposed to them all day, so it's nice to breathe the natural air of the farm."

"Ah, but to answer your question, the bath house certainly isn't as much of a priority as it once was. I've actually employed Cammy to help around a bit. Not that we get many tourists anyway, but she does keep me company, as the work supplements her income a bit."

Seeing the glint in Julia's eyes beginning to return, it occurred to me how infrequently villagers visit each other with the sole purpose of socialization. It must be a relief, being able to communicate your thoughts and emotions to someone other than your husband. While I'm able to find consolation in Rosalind on a fairly regular basis, Julia probably hasn't communicated in any detail with an individual since the New Year's festival, especially given her decreased association with the bath house.

"So you've employed Cammy?" I couldn't help but feel a smile to parallel Julia's form upon my face. "I tried to do that a couple times. Set her up to perform a chore or two for some extra pocket change, but by the time I returned to check upon her progress, she'd either have given up to go play with Roy or would start experimenting and create an even larger mess than before. I'm glad to hear she's learned to concentrate, though."

"Well," Julia murmured with a chuckle, "I wouldn't say she's mastered the art _quite_ yet. Granted, she's adept, but I'd say she's got quite a way before she's fully proficient in the way of self-control."

"How so?" I felt my grin expand in expectation.

"Well, just this past Thursday she… uh…," Julia began before pausing mid-sentence, a brief look of concern stained her face as she did so. Her dialogue abruptly stopped, the woman shifted in her chair as a brief moment of silence stifled the air, causing her to cast her gaze downward. "I'm sorry, Cecilia, but I don't think Cammy would appreciate me sharing some of her more embarrassing moments. She is at a rather awkward stage in her life…."

My anticipation subsided at Julia's vacillation, and I felt my grin droop, "Are you sure, Ms. Julia? I certainly don't support the proliferation of gossip, but I'm sure Cammy wouldn't mind a few stories. We all have a couple—"

"—no, Cecilia. I respect the girl's privacy as I respect yours, and all others I know. I-I have a mutual bond of respect to maintain, after all…."

Able to restrain the exhalation of an exasperated sigh, I turned my attention to studying the woman as silence enveloped the room. Despite the inherent filth of the farming lifestyle, Julia remained as impeccable as ever in both appearance and attire. Her lengthy, argenteous hair was delicately trimmed and maintained so as to fall gracefully about her head; the looks of which were further complimented by a black hairband that I could only imagine being used for cosmetic purposes. Her face was nearly immaculate as well, with any imperfection buried deep beneath a layer of blush and powder. Based on her superficial beauty and seemingly polite nature, one could easily mistake her for someone of a much higher social status than she had truly attained, and I could see why Max had formed such a strong attraction to her.

However, gazing upon her in this manner, the question arose as to the reasoning behind her marriage to Kyle in the first place. Infatuation was an obvious answer, but it seemed inadequate when applied to Julia. Her porcelain appearance—perhaps due to its fallacious nature—did not require a sacrifice in her intellect to realize. I had questioned in the past why she would sacrifice a life of luxury for labor, but the matter delved even deeper than that. The mere nature of the farm directly contradicted her lifestyle: that of sterility and stability. Why accept these poor living conditions when Max offered that which she so desired and more? Surely love couldn't cloud judgment to that degree.

Before realizing I had done so, I allowed my thoughts to manifest themselves as verbal words, "Julia, this may, uh, come as an odd question, but I've always been curious. Why did you marry Kyle?"

Slowly lifting her fingers to the plate before her, Julia caressed the dish's porcelain surface with an odd transfixion, collecting the crumbs of her previous meal as she did so. "Because, Cecilia, I love him."

"Do you ever regret marrying him?"

As my words dispersed throughout the surrounding air, the trance restraining Julia was suddenly broken, and she turned her face sharply upward so as to meet my gaze with hers, "Everyday, Cecilia."

"Why did you pulverize Max's heart?"

"I didn't," Julia's manicured eyebrows furrowed, and her lips, so delicately painted so as to hide their unseen scars, twisted downward. "You're assuming he had one in the first place."

I felt my face return the scowl, "He loved you, Julia, yet you dismiss him as if he were a mere toy that has lost its luster. Why?"

"Max never loved me. He held a fascination with me, but I believe there's an inexorable difference between love and mere infatuation."

Within my chest I felt my ribcage restrict, and my blood pulsed through my veins at the thought that my master might be so aggrieved by the hollow woman's words, "How can you say that!? He absolutely loved you, and he offered you your every desire and more. Yet you wasted yourself upon this... this _farmer_."

"To say he loved me would be to say he actually cared, but I was little more than unobtainable prize to him. It wasn't me that he loved; rather, it was the pursuit itself that fed his addiction. And if he appeared hurt by my betrayal, well, that was because the loss so injured his pride."

"Get yourself out of this denial, Julia! Max is ten times that man that Kyle will _ever_ be, no matter how you try to rationalize otherwise. So _why_? Why do you insistently cling to Kyle when all he has to offer is a pitiful farm full of _filth_."

Julia slammed her fist down upon the table, causing the pottery to vibrate with a frightening intensity. "Don't say things which you will later regret, Ms. Cecilia. The reasons I have for marrying Kyle are my own, and even if the life is nowhere near perfect, it is the one I have chosen. Don't feel responsible for Max's retribution when he has already progressed onto his next target."

"How could—I mean, that isn't, uh, what I..."

Turning away from me, the woman arose from her seated position, expression emotionless.

"Listen!" I shouted, frantic to reaffirm my support in my master's humanity. "I don't know how Max was before you married Kyle, but he's changed. I... I love him, and I think he loves me too, even though he doesn't know how to express it. I'm sorry for getting angry, but please, you can't say these horrible things about him. I know you feel guilty about the whole ordeal, but it isn't too late for you to absolve yourself of your regrets and accept your actions and their consequences."

Hearing my dialogue steadily fade into silence, Julia turned slowly towards me, an exhausted look plastered across her face. "If you two love each other, well, then I wish you two the best. Just... don't get yourself hurt, Ceci—"

The home's door burst open, and I turned just in time to catch sight of a worn Kyle, his shortsword ensanguined and clothing torn. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but upon our eyes interlocking for the second moment that day, his jaw snapped shut. Instead, Kyle slammed his fist down upon the nearest object.

"_Dammit_, Cecilia, I told you not to visit Julia, didn't I?"

"Kyle!" Julia growled in reply, "You can't control with whom I spend my time. Cecilia is completely free to visit me if she pleases."

"Shut up, Julia. I'm the husband and owner of this home, and if I tell a guest to leave the premises, she damn well better!"

I fled as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

...

A.N. Well, there you go—the longest chapter thus far, and nothing substantial occurred. Orange Tea, everybody!

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed. I have no idea when the next chapter will be released and thus make no promises, but reviews do serve as great inspiration. Still, as always, do not feel pressured to do anything, considering you've already done me a great service by sitting through this verbose atrocity.

Next chapter, proactive measures will be taken by Cecilia to confront the object of her affections, but will those actions actually prove beneficial when put under scrutiny?

-[Sir Gigous]-


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